


The Very Thoughts They Would Conceal

by Bonster



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Multi, Other, Polyamory, Rescue, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 07:10:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13676781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bonster/pseuds/Bonster
Summary: Napoleon is a damsel in distress, but he doesn't think he minds the results.





	The Very Thoughts They Would Conceal

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seaswept](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seaswept/gifts).



Napoleon Solo is being tortured and mocked. The torture he can handle, but the mockery is playground level, and it's giving him more of a headache than the knots forming on his skull.  
He's about to ask them--if he could use his mouth from underneath the tape--if they could mock in pig latin or at least Danish for a change of pace, when there's an explosion.

The wall on the right is suddenly not there, and the room is filled with dust and gravel from the broken stone.

He looks through the haze and sees Illya Kuryakin and Gaby Teller moving in glorious, competent circles, securing the room.

Napoleon relaxes his muscles, which is a mistake as the pain makes him blackout.

There have been worse days.

Napoleon awakes in a hospital room. One of UNCLE's he can hope. It's confirmed when he sees Gaby and Illya, one on either side of him, standing over him. They, of course, must have noticed his coming to consciousness, and is that relief on their faces? "Miss me?" Napoleon smirks, even while assessing and categorizing his injuries, the worst his heavily bandaged ribs, right below his heart. He's glad it wasn't higher.

Gaby's smirk is tight. There's a strain around her eyes. She glances towards Illya before saying, "To an extent, Solo."

Illya rumbles, "Yes," before the Russian takes Napoleon's hand. "Yes," he repeats.

Napoleon doesn't hide his surprise or flush of pleasure as he twines his fingers between Illya's. His excitement doubles when Gaby takes his other hand.

They'd agreed to see where things stood at the end of their last mission. Then Napoleon had been kidnapped by someone or other who wanted to take over a country, and the question remained.

He's glad to see it answered. He gives both hands, both precious hands, he's holding a squeeze.

He sees Gaby look to Illya and motion with her head at Solo. She gestures impatiently.

Illya breathes a laugh. He turns to Napoleon. "Yes," he nods, quick and sharp. He leans down and kisses Napoleon softly on the lips, before slowly pulling away with a smoldering stare.

Napoleon knows that that yes was to the question from before, not an agreement with Gaby. He swallows and licks his lips. Before he can say anything, however, Gaby's lips are on his, more demanding than Peril's, but ever so welcome.

Her lips leave his, and she's back to standing, looking between him and Illya. She smiles, mischievous and pleased and smug.

Napoleon, if it weren't for his injuries, would fold his arms behind his head and exude smug even more than Gaby. He satisfies himself by squeezing their hands and closing his eyes, picturing their first real outing as a confirmed three.

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from the song Love Rescue Me by U2, which doesn't wholly go with this, but some of it really rang.
> 
> Hope you liked the story!


End file.
